Monday, February 24, 2014

Coming To the Table

I read something the other day about how your 20’s are a time of figuring out who you are as a person and what you believe in.  As a worker, as a lover, as a family member and friend.  While I was reading, I started reflecting on my own journey of self-discovery.  I realized that deep down, I know who I am.  The version of myself that I present to my husband and my closest friends is the version that’s not always pretty but is always faithful to its identity.  My true problem lies in my ability to trust the flawed and meager aspects of that person.

Don’t we all long to be beautiful?  To be successful?  To be interesting?  I am so guilty of constantly playing the comparison game.  I begin a conversation and immediately commence evaluating how her shoes are cuter than mine, how he is more cultured than I am, how they can afford to eat out more and experience that aspect of what Portland has to offer, even (humbling to admit) how his faith seems deeper and more authentic than my own.  So I begin to adjust that version of myself throughout the conversation.  I bend and alter until I feel like I’m on equal footing but have lost sight of that person I know deep down is better.

Hear me on this: I do not say better as in I really DO have cuter shoes and deeper faith, but rather better as in more authentic.  Vulnerable.  Honest.  Better than the comparisons and the judgments and the fear.  Better than laughing at a movie quote I don’t recognize because I’m too afraid to admit I don’t get the reference.  How hard could it be to just admit “I don’t know much about music, but I’m pretty into books”?  It’s not better or worse, it’s different, and thank God for those differences in this world.

I stopped writing on my blog because I lost sight of the deeper convictions among all the clutter.  I was consumed with the amount of blogs out there, the narcissism sword pointed at my generation, and the feeling that I just didn't have anything new to say.  I came back because of the small voice telling me I may not be more interesting or have new things to say, but I will always say it differently.  There is no one in the world who thinks exactly like me and believes all the same things I believe.  The more I dwell on this truth, the more I am convinced it is true.  There will always be someone writing more passionately, more convincingly or just plain better.  But if I learn to present myself as is -->flaws and all, I believe there is something beautiful and wild, something a little…well, untamed about it.

It’s the new way that I feel God is challenging me in this season.  To believe that I have something to bring to the table, to ANY table, just because I am me and no one else can say that.  

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